


Day 6: Fight/Make Up

by GemmaRose



Series: Voltron NSFW Week [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Arguing, Begging, Breaking Up & Making Up, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Up, Mentions of Other Voltron Paladins, Oviposition, Pre-Series, Pre-Voltron: Legendary Defender, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, ofc that's a tag why am i even surprised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 12:52:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11967783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Most of the time when Coran worries about him it's not entirely unfounded. On this occasion, though, Alfor is certain he's making the right call, and that the previously unnoticed alien intelligence which has formed a telepathic bond with him is as harmless as it claims to be. He's going to feel really, really stupid if he's wrong about this one.





	Day 6: Fight/Make Up

“I trust it, and that should be enough.” Alfor said firmly, deliberately not looking over his shoulder as he strode ahead.

“It’s not.” Coran insisted, keeping pace with him to stay on his heels. “Alfor, this is an alien intelligence. One we didn’t even know was in that meteor until just recently!”

“One which has now revealed itself to us.”

“To _you_ , you mean.” Coran snapped, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling so Alfor had no choice but to turn and face him. “You’re the only one who can hear it, and why would it target you and the leaders of the alliance if its intentions were benign?”

“I don’t know.” Alfor admitted, pulling his wrist free. “But if it wanted the rulers, why pick me? Laura is the Queen, I’m just-”

“In charge of Altea’s entire military, and close personal friends with the leaders of the rest of this system’s inhabited planets.” Coran cut him off. “Alfor, you shouldn’t call the others to see these ships. Not until they’ve been thoroughly tested, and we can identify the source and intent of whatever is communicating with you.”

A sound like the crackle of burning wood filled his head, bringing with it a sense of impatience. Alfor couldn’t help but agree, Coran was being a worrywart again. “If we couldn’t detect her presence before, we won’t be able to detect anything now.” he said, starting towards his room again.

“Now that we know- wait.” Coran’s footsteps stopped, and Alfor turned around to see his husband with a look close to terror on his face.

“What?” he frowned, walking back to where Coran had frozen.

“You called it her.”

“Did I?” Alfor frowned, and heard fire again. This time it was happy, curling around him like a contented cheoc. “Oh, I think she likes being called a girl.” he almost lifted a hand, as if to pet something that wasn’t there, but stopped himself.

“It’s gaining self-awareness.” Coran muttered. “Alfor, we need to find a way to sever your connection with it.”

“What? No.” he took a step back, the sound of fire growing to a roar in his head. “She’s not done anything, Coran.”

“It’s a _ship_ , Alfor.” Coran snapped. “Ships aren’t meant to have souls, or intelligence, or gender. Whatever this thing is, it’s unnatural and I don’t like that you’re so willing to trust it.”

“It seems wrong, to mistrust her when she trusts me enough to make contact.” Alfor retorted. “I won’t reject a potential ally just because we didn’t expect her presence.” he turned on his heel, and this time Coran’s voice followed him down the hall instead of his footsteps.

“This is a mistake, Alfor!”

The fire in his head crackled low and soothing, and once he was in his own room Alfor shut his eyes and slumped against the wall. “I hope you’re as trustworthy as you feel.” he murmured. In the back of his head, the fire burned.

\---

“Come in.” Alfor said, unfastening his rerebrace and peeling it away from his upper arm. The door to his room opened, and he turned to see Coran standing awkwardly in the doorway. They’d hardly talked in the movements since their fight, each of them absorbed in their own work.

“I-” Coran hesitated, and Alfor gestured for him to step into the room. The door shut behind him, and he looked down at his hands. “I feel that I may have... overreacted, a few movements ago.” he said slowly.

“A bit.” Alfor agreed, removing his other rerebrace. “But no more than you usually do.”

“Usually?” Coran blustered.

“Yes, usually.” Alfor smiled, tossing his rerebrace to join the rest of his armour and walking over to where Coran stood. “Face it, Coran. You’re a worrywart.”

“With a husband like you it’s hard not to be.” Coran huffed, but he relaxed as Alfor’s arms slid around the small of his back. “I need to apologize.” he mumbled into Alfor’s shoulder. “To you, and your ship.”

“Hmm, I’ve got an idea for how you can apologize to me.” Alfor grinned, leaning back to smile at Coran as his hands slid down.

“I have missed sharing your bed.” Coran smirked, moving his hands to Alfor’s hips and pulling their bodies flush. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, you know.” Alfor pulled at Coran’s shirt, untucking it so he could slide his fingers up underneath the fitted fabric. “Something that’ll ruin the sheets.”

“Of course.” Coran leaned in and kissed, him, slow and sweet. “And you know, there’s another reason I came to you tonight.”

“And what’s that?” Alfor breathed, stepping backwards and pulling Coran with him towards the bed.

“Well, remember how we talked about trying for a child?” Coran whispered, moustache tickling at his cheek and breath warm and humid on Alfor’s neck.

“Yes.” Alfor nodded. Before their fight, before he’d been chosen as the Red Paladin, they had been discussing how viable it would be to try. Either way they did it he’d end up carrying the eggs for at least a few phoebs, and with how often he and the others wound up in battle that could be a liability.

“I have some eggs ready.” Coran breathed, and a shiver shot down Alfor’s spine.

“When?” he asked, pulling back, and Coran shrugged.

“I’m not sure, but we haven’t been particularly careful of late. They’re yours.” he smiled, soft and sweet, and lifted a hand to caress Alfor’s cheek. “Do you want to try?”

“Yes.” Alfor said quickly. “Of course I want to try, Coran.”

“Then let’s get this off you.” Coran said, grabbing the lower hem of Alfor’s doublet and pulling it up. Alfor let Coran guide him backwards to the bed, pulling his pants down far enough to kick off as soon as his arms were free, and collapsed on top of the blanket when Coran gave him a gentle shove.

“You are wearing entirely too much clothing.” he told his husband matter-of-fact-ly, grabbing Coran’s pants and pulling them down. Coran obligingly removed his shirt, and climbed onto the bed as Alfor scooted more towards the head of it. He pulled his husband into a kiss as soon as the man was within range, tangling his fingers in loose orange locks for better leverage.

His moustache was a familiar scratch against Alfor’s nose and upper lip, and when his fingers slid under the waistband of Alfor’s underpants he canted his hips up obligingly. Alfor made sure his husband was divested of his last piece of clothing mere ticks later, and pulled his head back to moan as Coran’s fingers brushed down his length.

“I want to take you apart.” Coran breathed, mouth brushing Alfor’s collarbone. “Tease you to desperation and then pound you into this mattress so hard you forget everything but me, even your own name.”

“Do it.” Alfor gasped. “Quiznack, Coran, I’ve missed you.”

“And I, you.” Coran murmured, moving his hand from Alfor’s prong down to the dripping slit below. “So pliant, like this is all you’ve ever wanted.”

“Well, not all.” Alfor grinned. “I’d like your prong in me too.”

“Patience.” Coran chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You’ll get it eventually.”

Alfor huffed, but one of Coran’s fingers sliding into him had his exhale turning into a moan. Ancients, he’d needed this. Coran gently stroked at his inner walls, each pass of his finger drawing a fresh shiver and soft moan from Alfor’s throat. His husband’s mouth travelled across his shoulders and upper chest at the same languid rate, sprinkling his dark skin with kisses that ranged from quick and chaste to long and toothy enough to bruise. He all but melted when Coran added a second finger, mouth drifting lower to give his lower chest the same treatment. The stretching motions were slow and careful, infrequent between gentle thrusts of his his fingers, and Alfor gripped the sheets beneath him tightly.

“I’m ready for another.” he panted.

Coran chuckled, a low sound that set Alfor’s skin crawling in the best way, and shifted so their faces were level again. “I promised to take you apart, didn’t I?” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Alfor’s lips. “I’m only getting started.”

Alfor whined, and arched his hips pointedly up against Coran’s next finger thrust to take the digits deeper. “I can handle it a bit rougher, at least.”

“I’ll be plenty rough later, don’t you worry.” Coran soothed. “For now, just let me take care of you.”

“Fine.” Alfor huffed, and rearranged the pillow under his head. Coran did start speeding up after that, though, and soon his fingers found the spot which never failed to make Alfor see stars. He backed off as soon as he brushed it, though, and instead rubbed circles around it every time he pushed his fingers in. It was more frustrating than words could say, not that his grasp of the Altean language was the best right now with how long he’d been painfully close to coming.

He couldn’t help but cry out when Coran added a third finger, bucking his hips up against his husband’s restraining hand. and Coran’s lips pressed against his own oh so gently. “Does it feel good?” he asked, and Alfor nodded. “Good. Just one more, and then I’ll give you what you want.”

Alfor didn’t even try to restrain the whimpery moan those words pulled out of him, and Coran kissed him again, achingly tender. His fingers had sped up slightly, no longer bothering with spreading as his earlier ministrations had left Alfor loose and wet as anything, and every few thrusts he’d brush near Alfor’s g-spot. Each almost-press drew a whimper from him, the stimulation winding a spring of arousal tighter and tighter in his gut. He wouldn’t last much longer; just a touch to his prong and he was sure he’d paint himself with an inelegant splatter of come.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Coran murmured, his lips brushing Alfor’s ear. Alfor nodded, and Coran gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. “Tell me out loud, and I may skip the last finger.”

Quiznack, that was cruel. Alfor opened his mouth to tell his husband so, but all that came out was a breathy moan as Coran nearly pressed on his g-spot again. “I-” he gasped as Coran splayed his fingers while drawing them out, the hint of pressure sparking in Alfor’s brain and scattering his thoughts. “I’m-”

“You’re who?” Coran teased. “I couldn’t hear.”

“I’m- I’m-” Alfor moaned again, digging his head back against his pillow. “Coran, _please_.” he begged, and his husband laughed.

“I suppose you don’t even need that fourth finger, hmm?” Coran crooned. pulling his hand out completely. Alfor whined at the loss of warmth as Coran sat up, and eagerly complied when his husband urged him to roll over. He let his husband arrange him, chest on the bed and ass elevated over his spread knees. Natural lubricant ran in small rivulets down his shaking legs, and his whole body jerked when Coran brushed a finger gently down the length of his slit. “I’ll be right back.” he promised, his voice low and hoarse, and Alfor whined louder as his husband got off the bed entirely.

Thankfully Coran was back not too long later, and set a small bundle of brushes in the floor at the edge of Alfor’s vision. A bowl was placed between his legs, and Alfor shivered with anticipation as Coran got back on the bed behind him and placed a second bowl between his calves. “When we’re done,” Coran murmured, leaning down over him and running a hand over his stomach, tantalisingly close to his neglected prong. “I’m going to paint the most beautiful designs here.”

Alfor’s breath hitched, and then one of Coran’s hands was on his hip and his husband’s prong was pressed against his aching entrance. “Ready?” Coran asked, and Alfor nodded. He pushed in hard, stealing all of Alfor’s breath in a loud moan, and barely paused after hilting himself to place his other hand on Alfor’s free hip before pulling out again and ramming back in with vicious strength and speed that rocked Alfor’s entire body. Alfor cried out as he felt his body opening up, pouch aching to be filled, and Coran doubled over him to bite at the back of his neck.

“I’m close.” he gasped against Alfor’s sweaty skin. “I’m so close.” his hips snapped against Alfor’s, and his hand left Alfor’s hip to trace across the front towards his neglected prong. “Say my name.” he murmured, splaying his fingers across Alfor’s lower stomach.

“Coran.” he moaned obligingly. “Coran, ple-ah!” his husband’s hand wrapped around his prong without warning, and Alfor cried out wordlessly as he came. Coran’s rhythm fell to pieces, one hand clumsily jerking Alfor off and the other gripping his hip with bruising force as he climaxed. Coran stilled with his prong buried in Alfor, panting harshly as it began to dilate, and Alfor moaned weakly as he was pulled flush against his husband’s chest. Coran sat back, pulling Alfor up with him until they were both perched above the second bowl.

“You’re so beautiful.” Coran murmured in Alfor’s ear as the first egg pressed up into him, following the dimly glowing trail of Coran’s come within his body. “I can’t imagine how lovely you’ll look, heavy with our children.” Alfor let out a low whine, partly at Coran’s words and partly at the feeling of the first egg settling in his pouch. They wouldn’t be compressed in him as they’d been in Coran, so their presence would be unmistakable, but with just one there was no outward sign.

Coran traced down his limp prong towards the base as the second egg pushed into him, and Alfor shuddered at the feeling of his husband’s fingers tracing the edge of his pouch-slit. A second orgasm wracked his body as the third egg pushed into him, and he went limp against Coran’s chest. His husband teased another orgasm out of him on the heels of that one, and another, and when Alfor finally came down his pouch felt comfortably full.

“Just a few more.” Coran murmured, running a glowing hand over Alfor’s gently rounded stomach, smearing his skin with streaks of come. “Ancients, you’re so beautiful. How did I ever win your love?”

Alfor turned his head, and Coran must’ve understood because their lips quickly met in a sloppy kiss. He moaned softly against his husband’s lips as another egg squeezed into his pouch, and then Coran pulled away and tucked his face against his neck, moustache sticking to his skin. “Last one, love.” he gasped, and Alfor arched as the egg slid up Coran’s prong into his body, settling in his comfortably stuffed pouch. He felt heavy and boneless as Coran’s prong finally shrank, and let his husband maneuver him into lying on his back.

“Love you.” he mumbled, catching Coran’s hand as his husband leaned over him. Coran’s mouth pulled up in a small, achingly fond smile, and he leaned down to kiss Alfor gently.

“And I, you.” he murmured in return. “I’ll get something to clean the both of us off, and then we’ll get you painted up, hmm?” he ran his come-covered hand over Alfor’s stomach again, smearing the glowing liquid further across his skin, and Alfor nodded. “Be right back.” Coran smiled, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing. Alfor ran a hand over his stomach as his husband vanished into the bathroom, smiled at the swell of his pouch, and wondered what their child or children would look like.


End file.
